Safe And Sound
by genevieveblankenship
Summary: Genevieve Blankenship is an executive for a company that tears down old buildings. She's in Volterra on a business trip to meet a powerful man named Aro Volturi, to discuss tearing down some of the old buildings there. What she doesn't know is Aro is from very old culture and legend himself. Aro VolturixOC oneshot OOC Aro Volturi


I walked to the pantry throwing open the cabinet and yanking open the door. I pulled out a pill bottle and took some. Don't care what they are, but they will calm me down or make me high, I spoke, yawning and realizing I just accidently took three sleeping pills.

_Shit,_ I swore mentally._ I'm tired._

I stumbled over to my bed, literally falling into it. I yanked the thick quilt over my head, and yawning. I felt the tiredness seep through me as I over-thought my day.

_"Mother, I'm serious," I nearly growled into my cell phone as I sat at the breakfast table. "I will not meet your friend's son."_

"But he is so sweet. He has a well paying job and-" Mom began to gush, I rolled my eyes.

"I'm in Italy. You are in America. No. No. No. No.

NO_. I cannot rush back to America every time you want me to see a man. I am happy being single, and why should you care?" I hissed. I never liked my mother, too warm and loving. Seriously, _she _cried on my first day of kindergarten. Honestly, it got old around two weeks in the womb._

_"Cause I'm your mother," she told me, in a trying to be stern voice, I rolled my eyes and poured cereal into my bowl. _

_"So? That means nothing." I told her. "You being my mother has nothing to do with this conversation. You could've smoked pot and sold me for some more, and you'd still be my mother."_

_"Fine, cause I care for you and don't want you to be alone," Mom told me, irritated. "Honestly, Genevieve, it's like you don't even look for love anymore. You are so distant and-"_

_"Got to go, bye!" I quickly spoke, hanging up._

_I ran a hand through my thick brown hair, while eating my sugar-coated cereal. I replayed the conversation over and over and over again. Why was my mother so set on me finding a future husband? I am capable of taking care of myself? If I want kids, there is a sperm bank or adoption or foster care. Well, if I liked kids._

_No one told me, as a child, I would grow up to hate children. I just do. They are sloppy and gross. They leave stains and they always seems to leak some sort of goo from, well, somewhere._

_Shaking my head, and dumping out the sugary milk, I got ready for another, nonexciting day at work. Or, as the company calls it, let's promote Genevieve and ship to her Italy. Well, I think they call it their head quarters in Italy. Head quarters my ass! They needed more staff members to pick up the higher_ _authorities chores they slack on, and they ship me here._

_I brushed my teeth, washed my face and applied foundation to cover up my oily toned skin. Well, actually, its only my nose that's oily. _

_Realizing how late I was, I ran out of the door and stole a cab from someone trying to get in it. I was from New York, this was highly normal for me. Stealing cabs from others, that is. Though, I was usually the victim._

_"Dove si va?" The driver asked me. I told him the directions and applied my lipgloss as he drove quickly through the narrow streets with large, old buildings surrounding me. It's a shame, really. The fact that I am part of a business that has to tear one of them down. Well, that's life. Old stuff moves on, new stuff comes in._

_The driver parked outside of the construction site. I paid him and got out of the car, walking into my temporary_ _office, a trailer. Could be worse, I could've been out of work till the building was built._

The phone rang just as I sat down. I was so used to a secretary answering it, I almost forgot to.

"Miss Genevieve Blankenship speaking," I spoke dully over the phone.

"Were you late?" The stern voice said on the other end. Other known as, Micheal Stephenson, my boss.

"No, sir. I'm just not used to answering the phone yet." I told him. That earned a chuckle.

"Well, if the building goes as plan, you can have your old one back." Mr. Stephenson told me over the phone.

"Can I not? I mean, she was so thin. I know she researched stuff for me, but did she ever Google 'How to eat?'" I complained. "She made me feel, well, fat."

"If you get a new secretary, you will have to interview her," Mr. Stephenson warned me.

"Sure, that way I know she'll be hired for her work appeal not her sex appeal." I told him. He chuckled, we had a weird boss-worker relationship. He was practically my father.

"That was once." He reminded me. I could picture him shaking a pointed finger at me. "How's the building coming along? Any problems?"

"No, no. I have a meeting this afternoon with someone named Aro, I believe. He owns a building near ours and would like the details of our business." I spoke, bored as I fumbled through my _appointment book. "Besides that, it should be done in a few weeks, max."_

_"Interesting. Did you tell him anything, yet?" Mr. Stephenson spoke._

_"You've been watching too many spy movies, we are a foreign exchange policy for the US." I spoke, sighing. "What did you think I'd say? That we were a top-notch spy program from Mars out to enslave all of man-kind? Or a vampire-killing agency that will burn any and all vampires we find, no matter what?"_

_"With you, anything is possible. Remember last Christmas?"_

_"When I convinced over half the staff that the Moon Landing was done on Pluto?" I spoke. "In my defense, I was drunk. And I wanted to see who would believe me."_

_"Many did," he remarked, humming._

_"You did, as well." I chuckled._

_"Well, I better let you get to work," Mr. Stephenson spoke quickly and hung up. I knew what that meant, it meant a hooker or model just walked into his office and was about to bang him. Damn._

_I began typing up the guidelines for the contract for my new secretary and sent it off to my lawyer, in America. _

_Spinning around in my leather chair, glancing across my trailer office, I could probably read every silly caution poster that hung the walls or the _Do Not Smoke On Construction Grounds_ sign. I knew every inch of this tiny blue office and it sucked._

I went out for lunch, at an Italian Deli. Well, technically, just a deli, I am now living in Italy. Damn.

Checking my watch, it was time to go to the meeting with Aro and his partners, if he decided on bringing them. Not that I cared either way. I mean, it was just info on our business, what we do, who we are and blah blah blah. The basics really. The same basics I had with seven other companies. The same basics I can (and have) recite in my sleep. But, the less people to share the basics with, less questions to answer. Which adds up to more free time for me.

I decoded to take a company car, because hailing a cab wouldn't be in my best intrest right now. Besides, the words thing that could happen is probably happen if I hail a cab, I break my new heels.

Throwing a piece, or five pieces, of mint gum into my mouth, chewing quickly then spitting them into a trash can five seconds later. My breath was minty, my make-up look good, my hair sat in place with a french-braided head-band and my suit wasn't wrinkled.

I smoothed down my black skirt and black coat, leaving my overcoat in the car. I grabbed my briefcase, adjusted my red tie and marched proudly, fondly and like a boss into the large castle-like building before me.

This has got to be a drug dealer, _I thought, looking around. _Or a really powerful man.

_I made it to the reception's desk. There sat a beautifully olive-tones girl with long legs and a flowing sway of black hair. I walked up to her, hating my look once more._

"Aro, please," I told her. She looked at me with her perfect eyebrows raised. Oh, she needed my name. "Genevieve Blankenship." She nodded and pressed a button.

"Il signor Aro Volturi, una donna di nome Genevieve Blankenship è qui per vederti." She spoke into the intercom. Really, a woman named Genevieve? Can't one just say, Miss Genevieve Blankenship is here to see you, or in Italian Miss Genevieve Blankenship è qui per vederla, signor Aro.

"Send her in," The voice on the other end spoke. Wait, he spoke English? And he made me fumble around trying to remember certain words in Italian and trying to remember them over the phone? That sick, twisted bastard.

"Follow me," The secretary spoke, walking away. Okay, everyone here is a sick, twisted bastard.

The woman led me down some long, winding halls, up an elevator and then to a door, she walked away. What was I supposed to do? I lifted my hand and knocked on the door, softly.

"Come in," a voice ushered on the other end. I stepped in, to see a tall, pale man not facing me, but the windows, instead. "Close the door."

As I closed it, I looked around my surroundings. This Aro character seemed to have a very old fashioned taste. An old greek vase sat by his desk, and a original Picasso hung on the wall. Very rich, man. I told myself. Don't touch anything, you'll break it and then you'll be in debt forever.

"Hello, Mr. Volturi," I spoke, trying to take his attention away from the windows. Did we wish for me to shove him out of them?

"Hello, Genevieve. Please, call me Aro." He turned around, smiling. His eyes were red, but besides that and his extremely pale skin,he looked very nice. He wore a dark navy suit and a red tie, like me. "Nice tie," he commented.

"Yours as well," I smiled sweetly at him.

"Please, take a seat." He instructed, motioning to the two lovely Victorian era style chairs. I nodded and sat down in the right one, as he sat in his leather chair.

"You may begin," Aro told me, breaking me out of my daze as I thought I heard someone crying below us. I shook my head and smiled.

"Um, yes. Of course." I took a deep breath, before talking for the next forty-five minutes about the business I worked in. What we did. Why we did it. How we did it. And if there was any questions, I answered them.

"So, what do you_ do, for the Stephenson_ _agency?" Aro asked me, my eyes widened._

_"Me? Well, that is just a little_ too_ personal, Aro. I'm sorry," I spoke._

"It's okay Miss Blankenship," he weakly smiled at me. Great, last name basis. Childish resorting fool. So I don't give you my job description, don't bump me down because of that.

"Well, if that's everything, I best be going," I spoke, standing up, grabbing my briefcase and shoving the papers I took out back in. He held out his hand, and I shook it, before pulling away. I shivered a little at the touch, feeling an electric current surge through me as we did. He must've shocked me or something.

"Are you sure?" Aro spoke, he looked, strained, now. Odd.

"Positive. If you have any other questions, you already have my work cell and my office numbers." I nodded at him, before leaving.

As I walked down the hall, I ran into a young blonde girl. Roughly fifteen, sixteen. My gut was telling em to run, I smiled at her and walked away, before she could say anything.

I made it to the doors, when I realized it was pouring rain. Crap! I held my brief case over my head and ran to my car, almost tripping a few times. As I got into the car, I could feel a pair of eyes boring into me, but the rain was too thick to see other wise.

Drenched, cold and irritated, I drove home, calling it an early night.

**xxxxxxx**

As my eyes drifted closed, one thing came to mind. _Why did Aro have red eyes and cold skin?_


End file.
